


Fake a smile and fake your death, because you can never let them know

by TheKidsFromYesterday



Series: Ectober 2020 [3]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Attempted Murder, Dehydration, Drowning, Ectober (Danny Phantom), Gen, Gun Violence, Immortality, Self-Harm, Starvation, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKidsFromYesterday/pseuds/TheKidsFromYesterday
Summary: After having a near death experience, Vlad realises something horrifying.
Series: Ectober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952503
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62





	Fake a smile and fake your death, because you can never let them know

Vlad was fine. He was fine. Why was he fine? He should be dead.

He had been coming home one evening after a business meeting that had run late. He was too tired to risk flying and had hailed a cab. It had taken him too long to realise the driver was going the wrong way. 

Just as he began to tell the driver to pull over, because, really, he was too tired to deal with petty criminals, he found himself face to barrel with a gun. 

He didn't remember getting shot. He did remember scaring the thieving man who had posed as a driver as he was rifling through Vlad's pockets. The man didn't even have time to scream before an ecto-blast shot through his rib cage, splattering his heart across the threadbare interior. 

Vlad had grabbed his briefcase and destroyed the taxi, along with the corpse. Then he went home and got drunk. Very drunk. 

It was a little over a year later that he thought of that incident. He had been shot. In the head. Yet still he breathed. He let his employees know that he was going on a holiday for three weeks, and would pay them all triple their salaries to keep his companies running while he was away. 

He rented a secluded cabin on a snowy mountain. Arriving with two large bags filled with supplies, he set to work. He had had the pantry stocked in preparation for his arrival, and was looking forward to enjoying his last meals. 

Starting with a gun, which was such a dreadful invention, he blew his brains out. Waking up five minutes later with an awful migraine made him swear to himself to use his political connections to pass stricter gun laws. 

Moving on to the poisons, he tried swallowing and injecting everything at once. It only caused him to become nauseous and dizzy, finally leaving him convulsing on the floor and foaming at the mouth. Then he had to deal with abdominal pain on top of the migraine. 

Knives were useless. No matter how deeply he cut, even if it was down to the bone, his skin stitched itself back together right before his eyes. He started drinking after his hand, which he had sawed off, came crawling back to his wrist, the bleeding stumps sealing themselves together as if the injury had never happened. 

There was a frozen lake near the cabin which had been advertised as a wonderful spot to ice skate. Vlad melted a hole in the ice large enough for him to fit through and let himself sink. He held his breath until his lungs were burning and inhaled deeply. The rushing water flooding into his lungs made his body thrash, as tens of thousands of years worth of survival instincts won out over a suicidal brain. He stayed under for as long as he could stand it, but eventually, he got bored. Imagine that. He surfaced, blasting through the refrozen ice and spluttering up as much water as he could in between great, heaving gasps. 

While performing these tests, Vlad ate whether he was hungry or not, gorging himself on all the gourmet delicacies he enjoyed, as well as some snack foods he remembered from his university days and still indulged in on occasion. After a luxurious soak in the tub and a fine dinner of the last few edibles in the cabin, Vlad laid down on the bed and waited. 

Starvation and dehydration were terrible ways to die. Vlad made another note to send food and clean water to the places in the world that needed it most. Honestly, with so many countries throwing away nearly as much food as they consumed, they could spare some of it. His body ached as it attempted to digest itself. He felt weak and vomited at least five times as he laid on the silk sheets. 

Three weeks later, he was back at the office, with dark rings around his eyes as he nodded to his secretary who came bustling over with a large cup of coffee, just the way he liked it. 

He wondered if the man's successors would take the time to learn how Vlad preferred his coffee. The thought made him want to weep.


End file.
